Bottom Step Roses
by Jeccelo
Summary: Taite Lockham, Tifa, is fearlessly launched into the drama of the state's hottest high school band Rose. Now she's the neutral party as the heart throbs and the exiled come together on one common ground: rocking out. Oh, and did we mention a love story?
1. Chapter 1: Columbus

**BOTTOM STEP ROSES**

_A Final Fantasy AU_

by Jeccelo

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**A/N**: Wuttup! This is a Tifa x Zack AU, with characters based on Final Fantasy VII. (Advent Children and Crisis Core.)

And to my friggin AWESOME Avatar readers: even if you're not into FF, read this anyway!! It really really doesn't follow detalic FF plot lines, so you'll survive!

This AU's theme is **All The Small Things** by blink 182! And yes, my AU-name faze has returned: I know Zack has an ordinary-enough name, I just wanted to change it for the dang of it! yay!:

Zack: **Zeke** Faith- 18 years old

Tifa: **Taite** Lockham- 17

Red XII (Nanaki): **Nano**

Cloud: **Cole** Stellir- 16

Aeris: **Aeryn** Geddicks- 16

Yuffie: **Yuffie** Faith (Zeke's little sister)- 15

Sephiroth: **Shannon** Brogue- 18

Genesis: **Griffin** Bossam- 18

Reno: **Reed **Turk- 26

Rude: **Russell **Turk- 28

Vincent: **Vaughan** Vance- 18

Lightning (FFXIII): **Lexie** Bossam (Griffin's sister)- 17

...More characters to come... Hope you love it!!!

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**DISCLAIMER**: I do not own the Final Fantasy characters. I do NOT own ANY of the mentioned songs OR their lyrics. Credit to Hellogoodbye, All American Rejects, Boys Like Girls, blink 182, Fall Out Boy, Relient K, and Coldplay.

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1: Columbus

A crackling erupted on the inside of my ears. Something moaned, a vibration beneath my feet, and a sweetly robotic female voice purred above our heads, telling us we had now arrived at the Columbus, Ohio airport, and if we would please remain seated until the attendants have excused us...

I quickly made order of my chaotic personal space, a sure testimonial of my young age. Swinging my feet off the top of the seat in front of me, my fingers tripped along the tangled shoe laces until the sloppiness was less hazardous, and then flew hastily to the ripped Cheetos bag, the animal crackers scattered over the white laptop keyboard, the empty Sprite can crushed amidst the shredded confetti of what had used to be an orange flyer. I shoved most of the mess into the single cream-colored backpack I hadn't piled off on the baggage ramps. When my hand meandered past a sweater and some water bottles, I found my hand mirror and took ten seconds flattening the static ends of my hair. One quick teeth check with the tip of my tongue... The mechanical female voice above said another thing about landing.

I wasn't nervous-- not really.

People were getting restless, and compared to my nonchalance they looked rabid. I could hear attendants hushing an anxious old woman back into her seat, assuring her they had almost hooked up with the terminal... I sighed heavily, flopping back against the seat, stretching my legs out in the aisle. The man behind me grunted and knocked his knee lightly against the back of my head.

"Oh-- sorry," I said sweetly, turning to offer him a considerate smile. He just grunted again, rolls of neck and a mountain of belly squashed between two bulging armrests.

There was a ringing... Some more lulling tones, like an elevator humming between floors, and then I felt the dragging sensation of the motion around us bumping lightly to a stop.

Pandemonium erupted-- I scooted far against the window, watching with slightly large eyes as everyone clamored madly for the exits. Had I dozed through a hijacking?  
I glanced over the tops of now empty turquoise seats and realized there'd be a few bajillion people to go before the mayhem settled, so I sighed again, feeling out of place in my natural ease, and rifled through my backpack.

In the outer pocket, I found it: a yellow pad of paper with sloppy notes scribbled down in glittering blue ink.

_Reed and Russell Turk, step brothers, Reed is Caucasian, bright orange hair, Russell is African American, bigger, looks like an NFL player._

About ten minutes passed. I'd taken to drawing revovling circles with slow, misbalanced fingers.

"Excuse me, miss."  
Courtesy as a slap across the face. I looked up to see the attendant with flustered, pink cheeks and bulging eyes, grimacing at me with a sort of desperation.

"Will you be disembarking?" he snapped.

I blinked, stuffing the paper back in my backpack and slinging it over my left shoulder.

"Oh, yes, sir. Sorry."  
I threw him a kind smile and it seemed his eyes softened, but I apparently wasn't permitted to stay longer and check. I heard him sigh, probably in relief, as I brushed quickly past and through the small hallway to the terminal.

It only took a few turned corners, disorienting glass walls, and ridiculously long stickups before the airport unfolded before me. A disconnected TV screen, all the dots shaking and hissing together, a thousand steps and voices and the echoes of intercoms like an overall roar of ocean waves. I sighed deep in my chest. Okay. Step one, complete, now all I had to do was find why I'd come here. And to do that I'd obviously have to start moving around...

I kept my eyes bright and a half-smile on my lips-- I didn't want to scare anyone out of approaching me. A few eyes turned as I passed: here at the exit, the floor was cleared, not as crazily packed as the baggage ramps. I meandered for a while, heading in sort of a general direction towards a pillar with airport maps pasted along it's side...

"Uh-- are you Taite Lockham?"  
I turned quickly to the new voice at my shoulder. There, looking like they felt like two circus clowns in the middle of a funeral, two men stared at me with unsure eyes. The first, the one who'd spoken, was skinny and not very tall, just a few inches higher than me. But that was probably because of his too-large shined shoes, half covered by neatly creased black trousers that were set low on his hips by a crooked belt. Despite the lack of balance it was a style I started liking. His shirt was loose, his torso long and lanky, stretching the white fabric out up to a setback set of shoulders. His jacket was like his trousers, his tie loosely knotted and flopped at an angle on his scrawny breast. But the most identifying characteristic was his hair, as I'd made note of on the lined paper: it was a blazing orange, and it was long, too. The fiery, unbrushed waves were tied in a loose ponytail at the nape of his neck, where they trailed a little further down his shoulder blades. The bright hue clashed a little with his more pale complexion, and overall there was a sense of miscalculation about him.

I offered him a wide smile, which brought a blink from his previously doubtful green eyes.

"Yes," I said. "Are you Reed Turk?"  
He wet his lips-- it was almost like he thought he'd spoken out of turn.

"Erm-- yeah. Yeah, I'm Reed, and this is Russell."

I looked up at his African-American companion, and might have been looking at a giant. He was at least two feet taller that Reed. His broad, set shoulders and slight poke of a belly seemed like space filler. Brown hands the size of frying pans were folded one over the other across his gut as if to restrain movement. He too wore a buttoned suit, white shirt, and tie, though his was more neatly arranged. In fact, I couldn't find a flaw in sight. Glancing up from his short legs and out-turned toes, I examined _his_ face now. Sunglasses were perched on the very tip of his large, slightly pointed nose, letting small, black eyes peer down on me with the same question as Reed's, except his were coated in an ironic shyness. His wide lips and jaw were set firmly, but I couldn't really tell what the avail would be. His lips wiggled, pursing and unpursing a few times as he realized I was looking at him. He inclined his head slightly, shuffling his feet.

"Hghm-- uh, nice to meet you, Miss Lockham," he mumbled in a low, quiet voice. I smiled and nodded, and they both blinked again.

"Nice to meet you too!" I said. "You didn't have to dress up, you know."

I'd been going for a modest loosening, but I guess it had just made things worse for them.

Russell looked instantly at his shoes, while Reed flew fleeting glances at his tie and belt.

"Uh-- but, you look very nice," I amended. "Thank you, I appreciate it."  
Reed nodded while Russell mumbled something that may have been a 'your welcome'. I resisted a giggle.

"Well," Reed sighed, speaking a little louder than necessary, "do you, uh, have any luggage we'll need to pick up?"  
I chuckled. Of course I would. "Yes, please, if you'd help."  
"Sure." Reed launched ahead towards the ramps, while Russell was left behind for a millisecond before realizing we had moved and hurrying to catch up.

I could feel the awkwardness like a plague sifting off Reed and Russell's every movement, but I couldn't exactly pin point why. Had I forgotten make up? Was I too pale? The dumb questions seemed to be triggered by every move I made, which were all recieved by something bordering shock. Sometimes it was like they'd thought I'd be arriving dead. However, I wasn't in the least bit irritated. It was an endearing component, awkwardness. It meant true affection. My mom had told me that, just before sending me off. I'd made it a priority to remember.

Reed had put his hands on his hips and was standing with his legs apart at the ramps, watching suitcases drift by with a queasy look in his eyes. I stepped forward quickly.

"Um-- mine are navy blue with green stripes down the sides."  
"Oh-- thanks," he muttered, turning to glance at me, looking back at the ramp, wetting his lips, then spinning around to look at Russell, who was hovering near his shoulder as if in refuge.

"Uhb-- Russell, go get a cart, will yah?"  
"Sure." Russell shuffled off quickly, as if relieved to do so. I looked back at the ramps, watching for when my baggage would roll into view.

"So you two are step brothers?" I brightly asked Reed's shoulder. The silence was awkward enough-- especially when my luggage could have already passed.

Reed cocked his head in my direction and a faint smile spread his lips.

"Uh-- yes-- yes, we are."  
"That's really cool. Since when?"  
"Um... since we were fifteen. Well, actually I was fifteen, he was more like seventeen..."

I suddenly remembered.

"Oh, and, my dog will be at another ramp. He's in his kennel."  
Reed bristled.

"Your dog?"  
"Mm, hm," I said cheerfully. "He's real nice, don't worry. And medium sized. He just has a lot of hair. He's a really rare breed, though. His name is Nano."  
I thought a shuddering sigh escaped his tensed shoulders.

"That's cool. Okay. We'll go pick him up."

We both saw it-- two large suitcases, navy blue, with green stripes down their sides, were shoved into view. Our four hands, equal in complexion, reached out to snag the same one. He caught my pinky and I ended up grabbing the inspection tag.

"Oh-- sorry--" He drew back instantly, like I'd stung him.

"No problem." I flashed him another smile and worked to haul the suitcase off the ramp, dropping it at my feet. It was heavier than I'd remembered.

Right before it could disappear out of reach, Reed lunged forward to snag the second one, knocking me in the process.

"Sorry-- sorry--"  
"No, no, it's fine."

I moved quickly to the side so he could pull it a little more gracefully onto the tile.

"Will this work?"  
Russell's quiet, Darth Vader voice appeared at our sides, and we turned to see him standing like granite beside a metal cart.

"Perfect," Reed muttered, and lifted the suitcase with a little grunt to set it in place. I lifted the other, sighing as I set it down, and then glanced around to the different exits.

"So... should we go get Nano now?"  
"Ehb-- Nano?" Russell looked desperately at Reed.

"Her dog," Reed explained, raising his eyebrows. Russell swallowed.

"Okay..."  
"I think he'll be dropped off over here," I said, pointing ahead, and started through the crowd towards an assortment of luggage all set in one large pile.

As we approached, I searched for a cream colored kennel. Stepping through a few twists of the maze, I finally found one. Shoving a suitcase aside so I could kneel, I ducked down and looked in the door. It was a big kennel, so I really already knew what to expect.

My dog's bright eyes snapped open, his pointed black ears stuck up in alarm, and his nose lifted in my direction.

"Hey, Nano!" I cooed. "Hey, boy. You such a good boy!"  
His tongue burst free of his lips and he began to shake in glee, panting from his wide, welcoming smile.

"Yesh you are," I continued to hum while climbing to my feet. "And we're gonna get you outa this dumb kennel..."

"Uh..." Reed appeared at my shoulder, scratching his red head.

"Shouldn't we take him _in_ the kennel?"  
"No, it's not necessary," I said. "I don't have a leash, but I can carry him, he's not too big."

I almost heard he and Russell exchange glances.

"Okay, buddy, here we go... C'mon, Nano."  
The door swung open at the bidding of my fingers and the first thing free was his nose, eager to receive a breath of fresh air.

"Good boy. C'mon."  
Clumsily he inched from the kennel, staggering over his jelly legs. When he was in full light, I could see again the familiar coat I adored: short and shaggy, and a brilliant copper-scarlet color that shimmered in overhead lights. His large black paws wobbled for a minute longer and then he found me, leaping up to snag my waist, tongue flying in reunion.

"Oh, yes, are you so happy?" I laughed, scratching his ears, jumping back when he aimed his muzzle for my mouth. "Are you so happy to be out of there? It's such a cruel little box, isn't it? Yesh..."  
All right, enough smothering.

"Sit... sit, Nano... good boy!"

He twitched with excitement even as he forced his skinny copper butt down on the tile. Bending down, I wrapped my arms around his waist and chest and lifted him up into my embrace. He wasn't heavy, the darn tramp, in fact it felt like holding a two year old. Curious, he set his front paws on my shoulder and stretched his neck out past my head, sniffing the air, growing giddy.

"Okay," I sighed, turning to smile at Reed and Russell. "Let's go."

They were staring at me in wonderment, but after a few quick blinks...  
"Um..." Reed fumbled for a minute, wiping his hands aimlessly over his unbuttoned jacket, before swiping a rolled up map from his trouser pocket.

"Ohhhkay... From here, we need to take exit thirty to get to parking lot A3."  
"All right. Lead the way, Reed."  
I honestly had no idea in the world how to get anywhere in a place this big.

Reed cleared his throat as he advanced to the front of our little gang, then waved the map over his shoulder.

"This way."  
And we set off into the bubbling crowd, Nano's bushy, wire-haired tail whacking my wrists again and again.

-----

Once we got to the parking lot, my arms were getting a little tired, but not too much. Reed lead us through a seemingly never-ending arena of cars until somehow he managed to spot his own. A small teal Honda Civic, probably with an inadequate trunk space. Oh well---it's okay, Nano usually sits on my lap anyway. But when I offered it, Reed refused, insisting we could fit both cases in the back...

After a few minutes of shoving and grunting, Reed and Russell managed to fit my suitcases one atop the other, and get the trunk door down tight enough to stay down at all. While they circled to the front of the car, panting slightly, I stretched a seat belt out across Nano's stomach and buckled it in. After ten minutes of navigating through the dim garage lights and random driveways into higher ground, we managed to break the surface. Sunlight poured onto the car seats like soup dropped in my lap. My fingers boogied behind Nano's ears to calm him as the motion kicked in.

Soon we were on the highway, Reed and Russell talking in low tones to eachother. I couldn't hear what either of them were saying.

"Er-- Taite," Reed suddenly said, running a hand through his hair. I looked up in his rearview mirror.

"Yeah?"  
"How... how old are you?"  
"Seventeen," I replied easily. "Eighteen in September."  
"Right..." He moved his hand back to the steering wheel. "Um... so, you'll be living with us until you graduate from college, right?"  
"Mm, hm," I said. Or at least the _contract_ did.

"Cool," he breathed, a slightly shaky sigh. "Well, uh, I guess there's some things we need to go over. First... we'll need to get you enrolled in the high school, so we'll probably be doing that tomorrow..."

"My friend Aeryn lives just a few houses down from you guys," I offered. "She'll be able to help me with school stuff."  
"Oh." Reed sounded genuinely surprised, and a little relieved. "Okay, great. Great, yeah, that's... that's good. So... who is she?"  
"Aeryn Geddicks," I said. "She's been my friend forever. She moved here to Ohio last year while I stayed in Colorado."

"What made you change your mind? To come up here to Columbus, I mean," Reed said, fidgeting.

"Her," I sighed. "Mostly. She kept writing me, saying there's plenty of housing and the schools are really good."  
"So why did you choose us?" he asked. This question could have been rhetorical, but I caught a glimmer of true curiosity in his eyes as I met them in the rearview.

"Well, everyone sounded very welcoming, but I just wanted to try something new."

"Something new?" he asked timidly.

"Yeah," I said. "Most of the families who offered housing had other kids, or they were older couples. I thought with you guys it would be more like college: sharing a dorm with friends, you know."  
Russell's lips twitched as if he wanted to smile. He was sitting in the passenger seat like he was being held hostage or there was a wooden board down the back of his shirt: his hands were folded neatly in his lap, like before, his sunglasses pulled up to hide his eyes entirely.

"Really?" Reed asked, sounding a little impressed.

"Yeah," I said. "I also thought it would be like living with the big brothers I never had."  
Reed chuckled. "Maybe."  
Silence for a minute, and then...

"Well, um..." Reed wet his lips several times, watching the road more intently than necessary. "This is, uh, kind of an adjustment for... for Russell and I, so... I mean, we've never, you know, lived with..."  
"Never lived with a girl before?" I asked, chuckling slightly.

"Uhbb-- yeah." Reed's cheeks flushed. "Um, so, you know, I hope we can... well... I mean, it's not gonna come to us overnight, right?"  
"Of course not," I said, shaking my head. "And you really don't need to worry, I didn't come here to be dependent on you. I'll just be another filled bedroom, that's all."  
"Right. Okay." Reed nodded, though I could tell he wasn't satisfied. That was okay. These guys were justified to be nervous, I guess. Russell cleared his throat, staring out the window.

I sighed. This was going to be an interesting four years.

-----

The drive was about half an hour, maybe less. But it hadn't taken long to clear the city before more remote neighborhoods had started popping up along the valley. I found myself gazing at the large mountains of total and absolute green like I'd never seen the eastern U.S. before.

"This place is beautiful!" I exclaimed at one point as I watched the afternoon sun crest a rolling hill of evergreens.

"Yeah," Reed said, distracted, glancing once out the window. "It's kinda cold, too."  
"It's April," I said, shrugging. "It'll get warmer."

Reed shrugged too. "Suit yourself."

"Do you ever go up to Lake Erie?"

"Sometimes. For fishing. But it's kind of a long drive."  
"Could we go sometime? In the summer? Uh-- if you're willing to make the drive, that is."  
"Sure. If you want to."

I smiled--- I'd heard it was like being at the Pacific. The lake was so big you could mistake it for an ocean when just standing on the sand.

"Thanks. That'll be fun."  
Reed nodded slowly. "It's a big place."

"What other sites are there in Ohio?"  
He sighed in contemplation, loosening his shoulders.

"Well... there's lots from the eighteen hundreds. This place is really old-fashioned. But Cincinnati is a neat city--- we could go there sometime if you want."  
"Yeah, that would be fun!" I grinned in the rearview. "What kind of theater do they have down there?"  
"Uh... I don't really know, actually."  
"That's okay. I'll do some research online. I'm sure Broadway musicals tour in Cincinnati. Do you like musicals?"  
"A little. Depends."  
"Yeah. Me too. If I found one you liked, could we go down and see it? Maybe during Christmas or something, on a holiday."

"Sure. If that's what you want."  
I grinned. "Thank a lot, Reed."  
"Don't mention it. Russell likes musicals, don't you, big boy?"  
Russell jumped a little as Reed nudged him with his elbow. He grunted in surprise, looking from Reed to me and back again.

"Oh--- uh--- yeah, a little---" Russell looked down quickly at his knotted fingers, waiting for my response.

"Well, we'll make sure to see a really good one," I said. "And that it's not too expensive. I don't want to do _too_ much."  
"No, no," Reed said a little hesitantly, shaking his head. "That's really okay, Taite, we'll um... we'll go for your birthday."  
"Really?" I beamed. "I'd love that!"  
"We aim to please," Reed said quickly.

"Well, thanks a bunch." I scratched Nano with a little more enthusiasm.

-----

When we reached their apartment, we'd turned off the highway into a more controlled section of the city, where skyscrapers didn't loom but still the busy feel of a "big apple" dragged on like a fad. The apartment was white, with busy city streets zooming by just thirty feet from the first set of doors.

I unbuckled Nano and situated him in my arms again, stepping out of the car to wait for Reed's instruction.

"We are... number fifty-eight," he said, his blazing orange head emerging from the car last. "Russell has the key... Russell...?"

"Right," Russell mumbled, launching forward. I followed him across the black top to the iron stairs that ascended to the top level. His steps were loud clanks whereas mine were barely detectable.

It took a moment of fidgeting before the key actually fit, in which he thrust the door open with a little extra force. It banged against the wall behind it.

"Well, uh... welcome," he muttered, playing with the key chain as I stepped past him into the room. It was pleasant: a little area of beige carpet, walls of olive, an interlacing of room and hallway darkened by the absence of light. To my right was a small kitchen also dimmed, and a small table just beside it, closer to the door. The living room extended from there, an assortment of sofas and a coffee table, from which the first outlet of a hallway began, leading into darkness.

"Um--- your room is over here," Russell moved forward awkwardly and lead me down the dark hallway, throwing a light punch at the wall with one of his massive hands to turn on the lights.

The room he lead me to was definitely fit for one person: a single bed was underneath the only window, mirrored by a dresser and a simple closet... I liked the space, the emptiness. That only meant extra hours of endless and merciless personalizing! I could almost see the periwinkle paint cover the plain walls, the siege of red and purple marker ink that would devour the white pillow cases, all the useless junk I'd pile in layers on the bare dresser...

"It's great," I said, smiling up at him. "I love it. I hope you won't mind if I... tweak it a little bit?"  
Even with his shades down, I could see him blink.

"Well--- no, not at all, do what you like."  
"Thanks." 'Cause it's gonna happen anyway.

"I, uh--- better go help Reed with the luggage. You get situated." And he turned swiftly back down the long hallway. I watched his first few steps before turning to step into the room. It was cozy--- I noticed it's the contrast in temperature from the dark, windowless hallway to the middle of what would become my domain for the next few years.

"Well," I sighed, and set Nano down on the ground. He sniffed the unfamiliar carpet, exploring the sealing from the walls that lined the floor.

"I said I'd call Aeryn, didn't I?" I glanced over my shoulder for my backpack and quickly swung it off, moving to sit down on the bed. The mattress sank under my weight: were there _any_ supports holding it up?

I hadn't finished unzipping the outer pocket before I suddenly heard---

"TAITE!"  
Nano leapt in shock, hacking a bark. I too jumped to my feat as he bolted for the empty hallway, scrambling into the sitting room---

"NANO! Hey, buddy! _Hiiii_! What's _uuhhhhp_! Oh, did you miss me, you good boy? You such a good boy! Did you mish me, yesh you did!"  
I threw myself down the hallway, spinning frantically into the sitting room, searching for the front door.

The girl who stood, hostage to Nano's demand for smothering, was one I'd known for about as long as I could remember. And she hadn't changed a bit. She was the same, exactly how I'd left her. Or, more correctly, how she'd looked when _she'd_ left _me_. But no hard feelings, it was all necessary, we stayed in touch, and now here we were, together again.

She was very slender, like always, two poles angling out of her torso that were arms, and she still had her fair, unmarked skin she seemed to wear like plastic. The brown hair that now trailed down her waist was pulled up in a high braid, intertwined with pink ribbons... so her. Pink earrings, a pink headband, a pink blouse and baby blue jean kaprees where pink stitched butterflies danced on her thighs and knees. The purse and shopping bag swung around her skinny, bare arms were also trademark symbols of her identity: she was such the flower girl. Beside me, and my jazzy ruggedness (which I am very proud of) she probably looked like a chibi.

"_Taite_!" she squealed, throwing herself over Nano's excitement and crash landing around my neck--- I struggled for my footing, hardly needing to hold her back as she squeezed down on my jugular as if sent by the government to burst it.

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my--- Taite! Ahhh! You came, you came, you came! Oh my gosh, you look so cute, when did you cut your bangs?!"  
I laughed into her hair, trying to pull her back so I could breathe.

"Hey, Aeryn! It's so good to see you!"  
"You're here! You actually came! Yes! I'm so proud of you!" She pulled away and was working frantically to select a shopping bag.

"I heard you were coming and I was going to catch your flight but I missed it and so I got the apartment number and ran and bought a gift then I raced over and you have to tell me everything that happened, how's Ashley, how's Kari, did Rachel ever go out with Scooter--- Taite, oh my gosh, you have to hear our band---!"  
"Woah, woah---" I took hold of her wrist to prevent any broken bones. "Hold up, Aeryn, I want to hear about your year too! Everything! You need to come over tonight."

"Nuh uh, I am _so_ not leaving yet---"

It was then that I saw them: Reed and Russell were plastered against the far wall, my luggage in hand, looking like they'd just witnessed a porhana attack. I smiled carefully at them, spinning Aeryn around to face them.

"Aeryn, this is Reed and Russell. Guys, this is Aeryn Geddicks, who I was telling you about."

"You told them about me!" Aeryn squealed, throwing her arms around me again. "Oh, Taite!"  
"Yes, I told them about you!" I laughed as I pushed her away again. "Settle down, holy cow, you're gonna hyperventilate!"  
"You guys don't mind if I stay for dinner, do you?" she spun to ask Reed.

Reed, his face white and his eyes bulging, shook his head a millimeter to the left.

"Great!" Aeryn turned back to me, beaming. "I'll stay all night! And I'll sleep outside if I have to! You're telling me _everything_!"

-----

Dinner was lasagna and pasta salad. It took me about ten minutes just to express the faintest idea to Reed and Russell how they'd prepared my most favorite dish of all time. They kept acting like I was the president of the United States. Meanwhile Aeryn scarfed down her meal, waiting for an opening where she could stuff my mental system to the seams with information.

I decided to give her a hand.

"Aeryn, did you say something about a band?"

And they're off!

"Yeah!" she breathed, gesturing fiercely with her fork. Russell jumped a little in his seat. "Duh, I so forgot! Okay. You have _got_ to come hang out at every rehearsal---"  
"Who are they, Aeryn?" She may need prodding at times.

"Guys from our school," she said, lifting an eyebrow mischievously. "Seniors, and one girl--- she's a sophomore. They're called Rose, and they are _so_ awesome!"  
"Really," I said, a little distracted by my food. "Have they recorded anything?"  
"Dude," Aeryn chuckled, "they already have an album out."

"Wow. That's neat."

"Yeah, it's neat! And guess what?"  
"What?"  
"They're might get money for a tour this year!"  
I raised my eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Cereal seriously, Taite. They're all my best friends, besides you, of course, so we hang out all the time and we get free tickets to all their concerts---"

"Where do they perform?"  
"Mostly at our school. They set up sometimes in the street and just jam, or they'll go to the mall. They've got a long way to go, but they're gonna tackle it like it's nothing. Rose is gonna hit nationwide charts, bet on it."

"So when can I come here them?" Though I didn't think Aeryn would let me by one second without _not_ hearing them.

"They practice during school at lunch and after school until about five. Augh, you have to come! The more I think about it, the more excited I am!"

"I can believe that." I shot her a smirk as I took another bite.

"You should be excited too," she chided, lifting her eyebrow again. "Our lead singer is the biggest heart throb since Nick Carter."

Reed and Russell exchanged fearful glances.

"From the Backstreet Boys?" I took a swig of lemonade. "I liked them a lot."

"Oh, come on, Taite," she rolled her eyes, "get in the now, will you?"  
"Sure, sure--- when I'm done eating."  
"I'm serious! And our second guitarist isn't so bad looking either."

Reed shuffled in his chair.

"Nor is our drummer, come to think of it..." Aeryn took her chin in her fingers, thinking. Behind her, Russell was chugging his coke with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Okay, okay, I get it." I sighed, and finally smiled genuinely. "Of course I'll come hear them, Aeryn, you know I'm an alternative maniac."  
"They do rock too!" she squealed. "And they actually _can_!"  
"Congrats," I laughed.

"So get enrolled at the high school as soon as you can!" She reached across the table to grab my arm--- so Aeryn. "Find me at lunch! Think roses!"  
"Whatever you say," I chuckled, and pulled my arm free so I could finish my lasagna.

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**A/N**: yay! i'm excited! (you might not be, but i just know what's going to happen!) Hope you liked it! Reviews are cookies!!


	2. Chapter 2: Rose

2: ROSE

**A/N**: last minute disclaimer: credit to Daniel Bedingfeild.

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"Can I help you, sir?"  
"Yes, I'm wondering where the counseling center is."  
"Just down towards the east doors, across from the cafeteria."  
"Thanks."  
Reed steered us out of the office and into the hallway. Well, we'd have no problem finding it now. The cafeteria was twenty paces ahead, brightly light and roaring with the talk of hundreds of students. The roar got louder and louder as we approached, until it seemed like it was right over our shoulders. I threw a glance inside: a jumble of colors and voices, a caucasian festival, everyone moving and laughing together. Reed sighed deeply and quickened our pace as a group near the doors caught our eyes.

The counseling office was bubbly with activity. The main room had two desks set on either side of the wall as if to close the visitors into a limited space, which extended into a small hallway leading to other doors farther south. Half of the far west wall was a window, through which I could see men and women in snazzy office clothing shuffling around machines and stacks of paper. The left desk was populated by a group of teachers, all mumbling together like they were speaking a secret educator language, while the desk on the right consisted of just one man, an African American. And I'm sure we got more than a good look at him.

He looked a lot like Russell in ways, but a lot fiercer in others. His blue suit looked ready to tear around his bulging, round shoulders, his neck, chin, and jaw were blocks of brown cement set one atop the other. To further garnish his square face, his features were set in the kind of grimace a boxer would wear just before taking the ring. I had to hide a smile as I saw Reed and Russell exchange long looks.

"Excuse me, sir," I said, stepping forward and placing the tips of my fingers on the table.

Half of his cinderblock brow lifted and his inflated lips puckered in surprise. Quickly he set down the papers he'd been examining and folded his fingers on the desk.

"Good afternoon," he said in a voice that made Russell sound like an alto. "I'm Mr. Wallace, head secretary of Columbus High School. What can I do yah?"

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Wallace. I'm Taite Lockham, a new student here, I came to get a schedule they had processing?"  
"Right on." He pushed his chair from the desk, which I realized was on wheels, because he rolled about four feet back to a massive printer leaning against the back wall.

"Barrett?" a man's voice called from a distant door in the hallway.

"Yeah!"  
"Did Rufus ever e-mail you about a 'Dress Up As Eggs' Day?"  
Mr. Wallace snorted. "What?"  
"I got an e-mail from Rufus about a 'Dress Up As Eggs' Day."

"I didn't hear squat about _that_ peice of work," Mr. Wallace chuckled. His beefy hands meandered around the machine, looking for something. His lips became the questionable pucker again and his brow pulled down in frustration.

"Sid!" he suddenly barked. Even I jumped.

"Is Sid in here?" he shouted again.

"No, Barrett," a woman said who was passing by, "Sid's at the other end of the school."

Mr. Wallace swung his chair back around and slammed a salami-sized finger down on a key on the telephone pad. A small beeping noise issued from under his flesh and he lifted the receiver to his ear.

"Would custodian Sid Highwind please report to the counseling office?"

Echoes of his voice buzzed through the intercom systems outside and above, all down the hallway. The cafeteria hummed a little louder: kids were starting to leak from the tables and meander through the halls.

"Er, one minute please, miss and misters," Mr. Wallace told us tightly, gripping the desk. He swung his chair back around to the printer, reaching out to tweak it again. All the time he seemed to be looking for something, growing more and more irritated.

"No one else got this e-mail," the man's voice continued from the unseen office. "Are you sure there's no day like that?"  
"Rufus' just messing you, Sal," Mr. Wallace grumbled in response.

A man's head appeared from the hallway: fair, flustered, with angular features and black hair pulled back in a tiny pony tail at the nape of his neck.

"Why would the principal be messing with me?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

"C'mon, Sal, he does it to you all the time," Mr. Wallace droned.

"Why me, then?" Sal demanded.

"For precisely what's happening now."  
"I don't entirely respect that, Barrett."

"Knock yourself out, Sal."

A minute passed and Mr. Wallace sighed heavily and jerked his chair back to the phone. Again he pressed the same button and spoke through his teeth into the phone.

"Would Sid Highwind _please_ report to the counseling office _immediately_."

With another sigh he dropped the phone in place and spun back to the printer. As he worked, grumbling to himself, a young woman appeared from an unseen doorway, shuffling through a stack of papers as she went. She didn't look old enough to be working full time at a high school; in fact, she looked no older than me, maybe younger. Her auburn hair was wavy and short around her shoulders. As she moved her arms from her chest, I saw the blue tag pinned at her shirt. So she was a volunteer, or an office aid. That made sense.

"How was your holiday, Mr. Wallace?" she asked absently over her work.

"Oh, just dandy, Cassidy," he replied with a sigh, putting strain on something on the printer I couldn't see. With a grunt he shoved away from it like it had burned him. I could have sworn I'd heard a spark crack.

"Is the cartridge missing again?" Cassidy asked, leaning her head around to get a look.

"Yes," Mr. Wallace growled, "and Sid---"

Snarling under his breath, he swiped the phone up again and said sweetly into the receiver,

"Sid Highwind, if you don't get down here to the counseling office in five seconds, I'm gonna be runnin' marathons all over yo trash."  
Cassidy sighed as he slammed the receiver down. "He's probably busy," she chided.

"Mr. Wallace, we have some worksheets that need copying," a new voice said from the unseen doorway. Another woman emerged, older, with lighter hair.

"Take it to the media center," Mr. Wallace snapped. "What do I look like, Kinko's?"  
"Oh--- Mr. Highwind's on his way," Cassidy said distantly from her papers.

"About time," Mr. Wallace grumbled.

"Um, Reed?" I touched his sleeve and he met my eyes. There was sweat on his brow, the poor guy.

"I'm gonna use the restroom," I said quickly. "I'll be back in a second."  
"Okay, sure." He nodded a little hesitantly.

Briskly I navigated my way out of the office. The smell of the halls was new and actually really strong. It would take some getting used to. In my peripheral, the shapes of wandering students were visible, but none of them strayed in a twenty foot radius of me. I started down the hall in the opposite direction, following a restroom sign. This end of the school, the east end, I assumed, was brightly lit by the overhead lights, an empty corridor of olive green lockers. The ceiling was high, much higher than any other school I'd attended, and narrow. The school was like one big canyon.

I hadn't realized where I stood until I heard it.

A boy's voice. Teenage, could pass for manhood, but I could tell it was a student.

And it was beautiful.

It was singing--- _he_ was singing. It was coming from the restroom: the men's sign hung right above my head. Despite that, I had to inch closer, had to keep hearing that voice.

"_If you are not mine, then why does your heart return... my call_..."

His voice was like the most heartbreaking cover in the world. It would make any original artist sick with envy. Maybe he'd written the song--- there was no way of knowing unless I asked him. It was a slow ballad, like a lullaby, and he seemed born for it. It was clear he was singing to himself, just for the dang of it, but it was like slowly he was gaining confidence, slowly his voice was progressing. Soon he'd be full out singing, not just murmuring. I leaned my ear farther into the entryway in excitement, listening harder...

"_If you are not mine, would I have the strength to stand... at all..._"

The higher note was perfectly in tune, his voice fading into breath. I felt my heart quiver.

"_I'never know what the future brings, but I know you're hear with me now... We'll make it through, and I hope you are the one I share... my... life with..._"

And it came.

"_I don't wanna run away, but I can't take it, I don't understand... If I'm not made for you, then why does my heart tell me that I am... Is there a way that I can stay... in your arms..."  
_The last word he held over a whole new range I couldn't believe he was hitting so perfectly. When he'd sung it, just letting it out--- his voice had just soared, not a tremor of strain, nothing, just perfection. I'd never heard a live voice sound like this.

I heard him sigh, a deep guesture of resignation. Silence...

And then steps neared me.

I leapt away from the door, scrambling for balance as far away from the boy's entry as I could get before---

A boy emerged. _The_ boy? It had to be. No one else had been in there, right? He was smoothing down the back of his hair with wet fingers: his hair was midnight black, the sides flattened down while the middle section was thrown about in gelled spikes, about twenty of them, a clump of one-inch stalagmites. It would have been a mohawk if the back of his hair hadn't been brushed down too. Even so, it was a style I instantly liked.

It was here, where he wasn't looking at me, was looking off in the distance towards the lockers, that I could sit back and get a good analysis of him. He was as tall as Reed, maybe taller; definitely a head taller than me. There was something about him: was it his slender legs in stylish jeans, not hanging down so low around his knees like the usual boy's fashion but held securely at his hips by a belt? Was it his shoes, things that seemed a century ahead of today's trends, yet were so perfect on him they convinced me everyone should wear them? Maybe it was his periwinkle sweater he wore underneath a tight white T shirt: the cotton indigo sleeves were the perfect length of his arms, the turtle neck was just the right height below his jaw, sprouting from beneath the neckline of his T shirt. Or maybe... maybe it was the silver stud in the ear he had turned toward me, or the twist in his posture that seemed such a signature stance, one that would look horrible on anyone but him...

It was then, as his hand lowered, that he turned to finally realize I was there staring at him.

He caught me off guard.

I'd been expecting a man, but instead I'd gotten a boy. And I liked it. A lot. His face was narrow and fair, yet despite it's matured structure the surprise in his eyes, the curving calligraphy of his lips, was perfectly childlike. Innocent.

His eyes...

Oh, wow.

His eyes were almost the exact color of his sweater. A bursting blue with a hint of lavender, such a bold and distinct color it made the rest of the world look drained. And the way they seemed to _glow_--- I could have sworn his irises were luminescent. Long black lashes framed them, a last minute garnish.

In short, he was beautiful.

But there was always that something... that hidden something that made him beautiful, despite all the obvious features... Something that made it easy to look at him, easy to be around him, despite how taken aback I was by his looks. Something else I was now determined to reach made him a splendor to _me_, just me.

He wet his lips, his magnificent eyes glancing around, searching for an excuse for my gaze.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, smiling casually. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He blinked--- it was the same expression Reed and Russell had given me about a thousand times.

But, again, he was different: he amended, his lips turned up in his own little smile as he shook his head slowly, and it only added to the wonder I held for him.

"No problem," he replied softly.

His voice--- It had to be the one singing, it had to be. I knew it was, I knew it... Did I?

Once again, it was different. He was different.

Maybe he hadn't been the one singing.

No, he was. He was. I knew it, deep in my gut.

I let my self stare at him a second longer: I couldn't get over how the color of his bright eyes went exquisitely with his charcoal hair. Bits of the spiked clumps were bent down on his brow that had now settled from surprise to ease.

"Well--- see yah," he chuckled, tilting his head a bit in dismissal. I nodded too.

"See you."

I smiled again, and caught his face transforming into wonderment, his lashes meeting in another blink. As I turned half heartedly into the girl's bathroom, I heard footsteps as someone else left the boy's.

-----

I hadn't really needed to go to the restroom: all I needed was to get out of that office before I started laughing too hard. So to cover up for time, I spent about three minutes with my plain, straight black hair, my usual, everyday make up.

And, I think I was secretly giving that boy a few extra minutes to get away. If I stepped out and ran into him again I couldn't imagine what would happen then.

When I'd had enough of stalling, I packed up my purse and headed for the door. The bright lights of the hall caught me off guard and as I stood there blinking for a moment...

"Taite!"  
I spun around in surprise, still trying to regain my sight, to greet my friend.

Aeryn was crouched in excitement, her face beaming, threatening to split. She was down the hall about twenty feet, with two boys flanking her on either side, though it was hard to distinguish features from where I stood. (I just didn't need a close up to spot Aeryn.)

She bolted for me, shocking her two guy friends who took off after her.

"I knew you'd come!" she squealed when she was close enough to grab me. "You are gonna _love_ these guys!"

The two boys at her side were easy to assess: the first was blond, with almost the same hairstyle as the boy I'd heard singing in the bathroom. The right side was combed down good, and the middle was spiked just as high, but on his left side, the hair was gelled to stick out a little from his ear, like spikes at an angle. It was a personalization, and I liked it. His eyes were bluegreen, dull, soft, cool beneath his blond lashes, not electric like the other boy's. Maybe seeing the other boy and his uniqueness had awakened me to the details of others: I found myself intently examining this blond's clothing, how it was actually pretty similar to the first boy's: he wore the same jeans, the same shoes... his black sweater was different, but the designs that danced across it's chest somehow tied the two boys together under some trademark.

The other guy, the one at Aeryn's left, was more stereotype, not someone I'd be stunned by. His hair was, if possible, blacker than my Mr. Electric Eyes'. It was combed forward and down to cradle his face like a hat. A wave of thin bangs swept over the bridge of his nose and interrupted the view of one of his eyes, which were the deepest, darkest brown I'd ever seen. But only his bangs were visible: the rest of his head was covered by the hood of his tight zipper sweater, striped black and blood red, with sleeves too long for his hands which he kept shoved in the front pockets. His jeans were darker, tighter, his shoes more "today".

Overall, I was doing way too much analyzing.

"I'm gonna love what guys?" I asked, chuckling a little bit.

Aeryn let out a short breath as if offended. "C'mon, Taite! _Rose_! You came to hear them, right? Like I asked!"

I blinked. "I came to get enrolled. But if Rose is playing right now, sure, I'd love to come here them."

"Oh!" she gasped, breaking into a grin again. "And here's your early backstage tour! Taite, this is Cole Stellir---" ---she gestured the blond, who lifted a hand and smirked--- "---and Vaughan Vance." She waved her hand at the black-haired one, who nodded.

"Hey."

"And guys, this is Taite Lockham, my best friend from Colorado I was telling you about."

"Yeah," Cole said, still smirking at me. "'Telling' is an understatement."

I laughed. "So what do you guys play?"  
"Cole's lead guitar," Aeryn said, flashing him a smile, "and Vaughan's drummer."  
"Sweet," I said. "I can't wait to hear you, Aeryn's certainly sold it."  
"Uh oh," Cole murmured, and Vaughan chuckled as Aeryn slapped him playfully.

"Well, c'mon, lunch is over in ten minutes."

As I hesitated, she grabbed my hand. "C'mon, Taite!"  
"Hold up," I said as I pulled free, "I gotta go tell Reed and Russell where I am." I waved as I turned to walk off.  
"Okay, but hurry!" she called after me. "You still haven't met Zeke and Yuffie!"

This made me stop. I don't know why, but for some reason I paused, and then turned back to her.

"Aeryn!"

She turned around.

"Who's Zeke?" I asked.

"Our lead singer!" She said it like it should be obvious.

"Singer?" I stole a glance at the bathrooms.

"What?" Aeryn laughed.

"I... I think I heard him singing," I called, shrugging.

"Oh my gosh," Cole groaned, and Vaughan chuckled again.

"He's _always_ singing!" Aeryn answered, like she was talking about a little brother.

"_Never_ shuts up," Cole added, lifting his brow to accentuate.

I couldn't hold back a giggle. "Okay. Well, in that case, I'm really excited."

"Did you like it?" Aeryn asked, suddenly intense. "His voice?"  
I shook my head in disbelief. "It was pretty amazing. I'd love to hear it again."

-----

The band was set up in the auditorium. Aeryn, Cole, and Vaughan had had to wait for me: the doors had to be locked or else the whole school would mob them and they'd never get anything done.

Even from the back, looking over the tops of a sea of blue chairs, I could recognize him. Zeke. He was standing at the main microphone, adjusting it's height, a dark blue guitar slung around his shoulders like it was made to be there. Another figure was a few paces behind him, and judging by the big blue thing in her lap and the low vibrations that bounced out towards us at the flick of her wrist, she was tuning a bass. A regular light was lit above the stage: no flourishing lights for a rehearsal. The only other lights were at the sides of the auditorium, settling the rest of the seats in a visible dimness.

It was only when Aeryn grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the front row that I realized I couldn't stare at Zeke forever.

Cole and Vaughan jogged ahead, bounding up onto the stage in one long stretch of their teenage legs. As we neared the stage, Zeke turned away to acknowledge them, throwing a playful punch at Cole's chest, laughing at something Vaughan had said... I couldn't believe the light that emitted from him, the energy. He was just so... Zeke. I found myself thinking words like _angel _and _sings like one. _Great. That's mature, Taite.

The laughter was still on Zeke's face as he turned back to the microphone, as his ecstatic eyes once again caught me off guard.

"Okay, Rose is officially plugged in! Now let's rip it out."

He twisted his torso to exchange words with Cole, who burst into laughter half way through picking up his guitar.

"R'such an idiot," the girl with the bass chortled from stage right.

"It's your job to think that," Zeke replied, smirking.

"Okay, guys," Aeryn said, rising to her feet. I suddenly felt very out-of-loop. The band members all turned to acknowledge her, traces of a smile or a chuckle on their faces.

"This is Taite Lockham," Aeryn announced, pulling me up by the hand. "She's my best friend from Colorado, and she's about to be convinced you guys are the best in the universe. So don't fudge it up, okay?"

Zeke saluted firmly. "Yes, ma'am."  
And then his eyes found me.

He blinked in coincidence, though I wasn't one bit surprised. I'd known who he was all along. _He_ was having the de ja vu.

"Hey," he breathed into the microphone, "I saw you."  
I was probably smiling--- but I didn't really know. His eyes were too bright, they were blinding me. "Yeah."

He chuckled. "Cool."  
"You guys have met?" Aeryn demanded, looking from Zeke to me and back again.

"Yeah, just like... five minutes ago," Zeke said, his eyes moving back to mine, welding there.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Aeryn squealed in my ear.

"I didn't know--- it was him," I insisted, though the mere contrast of my thoughts and my words made me laugh.

Zeke laughed too. "Okay, Aeryn. What should we play for Taite?"  
"Small Things!" the girl at the bass suddenly yelped, her face ecstatic. "Please? I finally got my part memorized!"  
"Your part is the easiest," Cole droned.

"Oh, that's Yuffie Faith," Aeryn said in my ear. "She's Zeke's little sister."

I was already seeing a resemblance in Yuffie to Zeke: she had his black hair, straight and sleek, though hers was cut short around her head and there was a streak of blond in her bangs right beside a more subtle sliver of bright red. Her eyes were perfectly blue, differentiating from Zeke's, who had that amazing taint of lavender.

"Small Things?" Zeke asked the band, turning to see their expressions. Cole stood up from his chair, his black and yellow guitar slung around his neck, moving forward to the mike beside Zeke's.

"Sure, why not," he said, patting the tip of the mike and sending a static boom through the amp.

"Okay." Zeke turned back to face the vast, empty auditorium. He smiled at me with pearly teeth, his eyes brighter than ever.

"This is our hit, All The Small Things."

"Cool." I sat down, growing more and more anxious to hear his voice again. Aeryn followed suit, and we shared excited smiles.

Zeke's head lowered: his fingers worked a few warm-up chords, long strokes over the strings like he was caressing his hair again.

He tapped three counts on the guitar's body.

And suddenly the amps burst, a flare of sound erupted like a thunderstorm unleashed. Perfect pitches and perfect chords folded together as Cole and Zeke both cringed over their pumping wrists, as Yuffie nodded and stomped to the beat, as Vaughan threw his arms out at the symbols. The song had begun, and I was already buried in it.

The roaring intro faded into seconds of a drum break, then measured chord clicks from Cole's amp. I looked up at Zeke, who's brow perked and a half smile lifted his lips as he opened his mouth to sing.

_"All the small things_

_True care, truth brings_

_I'll take, one lift_

_your ride, best trip._

_Always, I know_

_you'll be at my show_

_Watching, waiting, commiserating._

_Say it ain't so, I will not go_

_Turn the lights off, carry me home."_

Cole joined him then, and their harmony was perfectly balanced.

_"Nana nana nana na na na nana nana nana na na nana na na..."_

Zeke's eyes stayed fastened in mine. At times the tie would break and he'd wander off with a smile, but always to return, like he was singing right to me, like he'd never really sung the song until now. He did a phenomenal job: already I was beyond impressed, but still that little 'something' about him kept me from freaking out, kept me still in my seat, just beaming. I could only smile back, some force developing between us that would send a thousand unspoken words through with just one prolonging gaze...

The interlude was quick and simple, and then the thumps from Cole's amps returned, and Zeke tilted his chin again into the microphone for the second verse.

"_Late night, come home_

_Work sucks, I know."_

I chuckled at his convincing nod, trapped forever in periwinkle.

_"She left me roses by the stairs_

_Surprises let me know she cares."_

His eyes only deepened. I lifted my feet onto the seat, clutching my knees against my chest.

"Say it ain't so, I will not go

Turn the lights off, carry me home."

And again Cole joined him, cringing again to kick off the round.

_Nana nana nana na na na nana nana nana na na nana na na..."_

The energy slowed: Vaughan sat back, settling the trembling symbol, clicking the high-hat shut... Zeke's threw his hand out in a circle, plucking a chord and letting it ring. Vaughan slapped the snare drum to keep time, while after four beats Cole started up the clicks again, a crescendo of instrumentality. Yuffie shot a grin in his direction, mirroring his movements on the bass. Zeke continued setting off chords to ring, all growing in more and more frequency, building, building, until finally---

_"Say it ain't so, I will not go_

_Turn the lights off, carry me home._

_Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill_

_The night will go on, my little windmill_

_Say it ain't so, I will not go_

_Turn the lights off, carry me home_

_Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill_

_The night will go on---"_

Crash.

_"---the night will go on---"_

Crash.

_"---my little windmill."_  
The note rang, an impact of finale, and Aeryn and I leapt to finally let the screams out.

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**A/N**: Hope you liked it!! reviews are cookies! Sal was Tseng, Cassidy was Cissnei, and you know the rest.


	3. Chapter 3: Calculus

3: CALCULUS

**A/N**: welcome Sephiroth and Genesis, and Griffin's last name is changed from Bossam to Rhapsody. thanks for reading!

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I'd spent all night looking over my schedule, trying to fit room numbers into a song so I'd be able to look like I knew where I was going. I'd been humming 'All The Small Things' all through dinner the day before, and eventually the room numbers had worked their way into that melody. Reed and Russell had been suspicious enough when I'd told them I was gonna go hang out in the auditorium with a bunch of boys... Now they probably thought I'd been brainwashed.

The next morning, I found it easier to survive the first day of school just because I'd known what to expect. Even though a high school in Ohio was bound to be different than a high school in Colorado, the basics still applied. Packed hallways, the roar of voices, the pressures of appearance and the same routine to get used to.

Strange as it sounds, I'd never been too intimidated by any of it. My locker was easy enough to find, and after spending an hour after school back in the seventh grade forcing myself to learn how to work the dial, opening the dang thing was like second nature.

My first class was A.P. Calculus in room 214. Being a high school senior was definitely the most confusing grade yet: I'd never cared to learn about A.P.s and stuff until I'd absolutely had too, so I was still trying to get into the swing of things. Hopefully I could make a friend or two in this class in peticular.

Two minutes before the final bell, I'd waltzed into 214 cool as a cucumber, only to be surprised a little bit by the number of kids. I'd realized it was an A.P. class, but I hadn't realized so many would be interested. Or this could just be a neighborhood of whizzes, in which case, I was dead meat... Desks were shoulder to shoulder, back to back, squishing as many qualifiers in as possible. I froze a little before the huge group, feeling sorry that I'd be just another seat to fill.

"Ah."

I looked up to the front, as did a few of the students who had stared at me as I'd entered, and saw the teacher. Tall, slender, younger than I'd imagine math teachers, with short cropped sandy hair and a broad, squarish jaw line. His paper miché lips were parted in acknowledgment and one firm eyebrow was lifted, stretching his small, tight, hazel eyes open a little wider.

"Hey," I said, smiling my smile. "I'm the newbie."  
"Oh, yes, that's right, Miss Lockham," he said, and I realized suddenly he had a pleasant, clipped British accent. His charismatic stance and the stud in his left ear reminded me somewhat of a charming, swashbuckling hero in a pirate movie.

"They told me about you in an e-mail. Hmm..."  
He turned around to his computer, moving towards it.

"While I'm adjusting the seating, would you mind coming up and introducing yourself?"

"No problem." I moved quickly to the front, where I turned with welcoming eyes to the thirty six or so seniors looking up at me.

"Hi, I'm Taite Lockham," I said simply, shrugging, "um... I'm from Colorado, moved up here for the schooling."

"What other A.P. classes are you taking, Taite?" the teacher asked from his computer, his pleasant dialect not failing to tickle me a second time.

"English literature and biology," I responded easily, singing the mental song of my classes for the semester.

"Sounds clucky," he murmured, rising now with a new stylish bend to his posture.

"I'm Mr. Balthier," he said. "Welcome. I'll have you sitting..." He moved to my side, gesturing with his finger to some seat in the back, "...in that one second from the last, just beside Mr. Brogue."  
A boy lifted his fingers to signal his identity. I then realized for the first time the seat beside him was vacant. He had incredibly light hair which contrasted, I noticed, with the head of red hair that sat in front of him: a boy in a bright pink shirt hunched over a book.

"Normally that's where Hannah sits, isn't it?" Mr. Balthier asked a few students in the front row as I moved towards my new seat. They murmured in confirmation.

"Yes, well, we'll get her a new seat, she's going to be gone for the week with strep throat, I believe is what she told me..."

By then I'd reached my place, setting my purse down on the corner of the desk and sliding back comfortably in my seat. The boy beside me shifted in his seat, and I was drawn for the first time to his gaze.

I was instantly amazed by his hair: it was silver, actual silver. I'd never seen silver hair but in movies and stuff. It was short, or at least one side was. The other side was one big bang, a long drape of sleek gray hair that was drawn in to a point at his chin, hiding half of his face from my view. I smirked, thinking of black makeup and slit wrists, though I was sure this boy wasn't anything like that. As soon as our eyes met, his seemed to darken and brighten at the same time. The smirk that crested his lips was handsome and a tad seductive. His eyes were a light green sprinkled with gold, long, brown lashes slanting down towards a slender, elegant nose. His whole facial structure was more adult like than I'd ever seen in a high school. With a few fleeting glances at his long, slender legs, his tight gray sweater outlining muscles in his arms, I could tell he would tower over me, if not everyone else in the school.

"_Taite_ Lockham, yes?" he asked, and his voice was deep, well matured.

"Yep," I said, feeling extremely casual beside the sort of mysterious grace he emitted. I handed him a smile, hoping his smirk would turn a little less suggestive, though I didn't feel too uncomfortable. I _seldom_ felt uncomfortable, stupid me.

"Right," he said, flipping his curtain of bangs slightly to the side as he twisted in his seat to face me.

"I'm Shannon Brogue."  
"Nice to meet you," I said cheerfully. "I've always loved the name Shannon."  
"Taite's not a bad name either," he said, lifting an eyebrow.

"Well, it's a boy's name," I said, shrugging. "What can you do?"

"Mine's a girl's name," he offered, also shrugging.

I shook my head. "It sounds better on boys anyway."  
"I'm starting to like Taite on a girl," he said, nodding slowly. I chuckled and looked off towards the white board where Mr. Balthier was writing formulas in elegant script, the kind you see in college classrooms. A few minutes passed in silence, me avoiding the eyes of a few turned heads, Mr. Balthier gliding fluently over his lecture...

"Quanqreda," I heard a voice murmur. It was Shannon. "Chapter one. Didn't this one suck?"  
"The sequel sucked worse, so in comparison, this one is a Pulitzer Prize."

The voice that replied was the redhead that sat in front of him, leaning back now from his book to grin at Shannon. Shannon chuckled deeply, he too sliding back in his chair, and then caught my eye.

"Hey," he said, and gestured his buddy. "This is Griffin."

"What's up," I nodded with a smile at the boy.

"Hey." His smirk was small, his blue-green eyes mellow and secretive. It was more accurate than normal to call him a "redhead", seeing as his hair, which was straight and long, gelled like needle points and thrown in big waves of bangs across his brow, was a bright copper, almost scarlet. Maybe he'd died it, and the scarlet _did_ exist, or maybe it was just the lighting. Whatever the case, it was just as unusual a color as Shannon's silver hair, but it went great with his bright pink T shirt. It was then that I decided pink was only a color for boys. I couldn't help smiling, making even giggling a little.

Shannon noticed. "What is it?"

Griffin too glanced back over his shoulder in my direction.

I shrugged. "Love your shirt, Griffin," I said.

He smirked wider. "Thanks."

-----

As the lunch bell rang, I sauntered slowly towards the cafeteria with the rest of the Seniors, rolling up my assignments and slipping them into my purse like telescopes Marry Poppins would have sticking out from between bag zippers. Sounds of talking and laughter built like a storm, rolling harder and harder against the walls until, when I finally entered the cafeteria, it was near deafening.

I'd stuck close to Shannon and Griffin, just to make sure I didn't get lost. I don't think they'd noticed me; I'd hung back about five feet while they traveled side by side to the pizza line. I followed them casually, falling into line a few people back from Griffin's beacon of a shirt.

I hadn't been in line for a minute before something suddenly clamped down hard on my shoulder.

"Oh, sorry, Taite! Didn't mean to scare yah."  
I turned quickly to see Aeryn, Cole, Vaughan, and Yuffie the bass player, all at my back, smiling innocently.

"You didn't scare me," I said, shrugging. "You wanna come in line with me?"

"Thanks!" Aeryn motioned for the others to slip in. Cole winked as he passed. People behind me grumbled under their breath.

I quickly made a head count and realized my new eye-candy specimen was missing.

"Where's Zeke?" I asked.

"Oh, he has his tutoring courses today," Aeryn said. "On B days he goes home and does his classes online with his tutor. The tutor's at home, of course, just helping Zeke go through it, teaching him..."  
"Oh... So yesterday was an A day, I guess," I said, sighing slightly.

"You miss him?" Aeryn murmured, lifting an eyebrow slyly.

I rolled my eyes. "Please."  
"Good _thing_ he isn't here, too," Cole muttered from behind. "He's always clogging up the hallways."

"Yeah, he still won't wear that paper bag for his head Yuffie gave him," Vaughan sighed.

"Oh well, guess we'll be tardy all year," Cole concluded heavily.  
I glanced at Aeryn, who giggled.

"He's a little popular," she explained. We moved deeper in the line, each of us reaching a point where we could take a tray, then pile on the grub.

"Popular how?" I asked as I handled a greasy piece of pizza, already knowing the answer.

When I glanced at Aeryn, she was a little pink in the face.

"Oh, I don't know, weird stuff--- he's a little cute, I guess, I don't really care..."

Peh. Right. I took the ranch dressing bottle and squeezed a trail of it across my pizza.

"Yeah, sure you don't care," I murmured, and handed her the ranch.

"What?" She soaked her own slice in dressing.

"You sucked at this in six grade, too, you know," I said, advancing to the rolls and brownies.

"Be nice, Taite..."

Cole was next, who took the ranch bottle from Aeryn and dunked a worthy amount on his own pizza: it was practically swimming in it when he finished.

"Ugh, you guys are so gross," Yuffie grumbled, as Vaughan took Cole's hand off and doused each peice of pepperoni with a twist of dressing.

"That's just the start," Cole warned.

"What's next?" I asked over my shoulder, squeezing a paper bowl of salad in beside my milk.

Cole reached up wordlessly to take a brownie from the offering tray, and quickly began breaking it into small pieces. I watched, mildly impressed, as he began squishing each chunk into the cheese, betwixt the pepperoni like a work of art.

"Aaaauuugh!" Yuffie cringed. "Ew! That is so sick! Oh my gosh, stop it, Cole!"  
Vaughan and I starting laughing--- Aeryn, who had been busy dressing her salad, turned around to investigate. She yelped a second later.

"Oh my gosh! What are you doing?!"  
Vaughan took his own brownie and tore of a corner, then squished the whole chunk in his hand. When he opened his fingers, he went to daintily sprinkling bits of the chocolate all over his slice.

"Very authentic," I commented.

"Thanks," he said back in his low, quiet voice, flashing me a smirk.

"Eeewwww, ew, ew, _ew_," Yuffie shuddered, turning her head.

"Here, Yuffie, let me get that for you," Cole said, reaching over for her brownie. Yuffie squeaked and slapped his hand away.

"Don't even _think_ about it!"

"Phase three?" Vaughan suggested to a laughing Cole, who nodded.

"Yeah. We'll borrow some mustard from the sandwich line."  
"Okay, I am SO not sitting by you," Aeryn groaned, closing her eyes. I just smirked.

"Hey, Cole, what's the calorie count on that?" I asked.

"It's not that bad, actually," he replied. "Just about ten thousand once we get started."

"C'mon, Taite, you don't want to get this corrupted." Aeryn grabbed my arm and pulled me towards the cash register.

Once we'd gotten paid, we stood back a bit waiting for Yuffie to get through without vomiting and for Cole and Vaughan to finish their masterpieces.

"Hey, Taite."

The voice stood out from all the others, all too familiar for someone I'd just met ten minutes ago.

Aeryn and I turned, me with a smile and Aeryn in surprise, to see Shannon and Griffin side by side with trays of food balanced under their arms like basketballs. Even when setting his weight back, Shannon was a tower, but Griffin managed to reach his ear.

"Hey, guys," I said. "Um, do you know Aeryn?"  
"Yep," Shannon drawled, tilting his head. "Have _you_ guys met before?"  
"Hi, Shannon," Aeryn said, yet there was a tremor of something unsure in her voice, in the way she seemed to look over his shoulder at someone else...

"Yeah, we knew eachother way back in Elementary school," I said, a little distracted now by Aeryn's behavior. "Right?"  
She blinked. "Oh, yeah. Mm, hm."

"Is Zeke home with Angel?" Shannon asked, looking at Aeryn now.

"Yeah."  
"You guys having a rehearsal anytime soon?"  
"Probably at Zeke's house, tomorrow," she said, brightening a bit. "You wanna come?"  
Her eyes flashed again over his shoulder to Griffin, who had flipped out a small book and was now reading it, looking moderately comfortable.

"We'll see," Shannon said, he too throwing a glance at Griffin, then turning back to smile at me.

"You wanna sit with us, Taite?"  
He didn't seem to hide the fact that he was extending the invitation only to me: but as much as I would've been fine sitting with him, it now felt like I'd be crossing into different boundaries, or like I was turning my back on Aeryn and the others. They were all friends, right? I mean, Shannon and Aeryn were talking well enough...

It was a more dramatic scene than I expected or wanted to encounter in something so cliché as high school relationships.

"Um, I'm gonna sit with Aeryn today, but thanks for offering," I said. I hoped it was polite enough--- Shannon seemed like a guy who could appreciate and practice manners.

"Sure," he said, nodding. "That's fine. See yah."  
"See yah, Shannon. Griffin," I added, and he shot me a mellow glance before slapping his book shut and following Shannon into the packed crowds.

"You know them?" Aeryn asked immediately, almost like she was suspicious.

"They're in one of my A.P. classes," I said distantly, watching them disappear into the hallway. "How long have _you_ known them?"  
"Since I moved here," she said unsteadily. "Shannon's one of Zeke's best friends."  
"Do you like him?" I hadn't missed that flicker in her eyes. "Friendwise?"

"Shannon's cool," she said, averting her gaze.

"What's up?"  
It was Cole--- he, Vaughan, and Yuffie stood behind us, Vaughan's eyes off towards the exits like mine had been.

"Just talking," Aeryn said, shrugging, and moved forward with a smile. "C'mon,

let's go outside today."

-----

The rest of the day passed without consequence: Aeryn was as bubbly as ever, just like the Shannon-Griffin interaction had never happened. She'd offered about twenty times to drive me home, and then to stay at my house probably until the cops came looking for her, but I kindly refused, telling her I'd promised Reed and Russell I'd do some grocery shopping that afternoon. She looked at me like I was crazy and finally gave up.

Once at home, Reed had awkwardly insisted he and Russell accompany me: I'd tried to convince them I wasn't going to get abducted or anything, but they'd seemed paranoid to remain in the apartment without me, so of course I'd consented. It would be nice to have some company, I guess.

The store he'd directed me too was regular enough, a Harmons much like the one back home. It was just a few blocks from the high school: the minute I realized that fact, the whole place then had 'truancy sanctuary' written all over it. I'd have to file that one away incase I ever felt bratty enough to ditch.

Finding the food had been easy enough: the bright spots were Russell getting plums confused with red onions, and Reed almost getting a purse to the jaw by a little old lady who's cart he had mistaken for ours. Then there had been other times when I'd scolded the two for eating Sour Patch from the penny candy shelves without paying for them, you know, what everyone does, until their expressions had been so hilarious I'd had to get a couple for myself and hurry us from sight before we were caught.

Later on, two little boys had come up and asked Russell if he was my bodyguard, then turning a second later to ask Reed if he was Ronald McDonald. I'd concentrated hard on the chips aisle to keep from laughing too hard.

Overall, I guess you could have called it a bonding experience. My two escorts seemed traumatized and I found myself still biting my lip whenever aftershock urges to laugh came.

At the cashier, Reed and I had finally reached a compromise to split the pay while Russell draped all the plastic bags around his arms. I pushed the empty cart at the lead while Reed followed with empty hands and Russell the weight lifter trailed in the rear, insisting to lug all the bags to the car, trying to deny the strain in his voice.

In the small foyer between the two rows of exit doors, five long rows of carts were lined and ready to be distributed. As I passed through the automatic door I turned in my tracks towards the last cart in line, ready to slide ours into place...

"Here. Hold this."  
"Nah, I don't want the whole thing."  
I looked up to the voices---

Shannon and Griffin were perched on the tops of two carts, about seven carts deep in the first couple lines. I studied them in surprise, wondering how they managed to balance comfortably on handle bars alone. Shannon hadn't caught my eye yet, but was spinning his thumb across his iPod while feeding himself strips of jerky from a bag in his lap. At his left, intent in a book as always, Griffin too had a nano between his fingers and was distantly skipping songs while blowing bubble gum into his pages.

I guess I'd stared too long (it _was_ a weird coincidence, after all), because a moment later Shannon's eyes flickered up to snag with mine as if on accident.

The same dark, handsome smile spread his face.

"Taite. What's up?"  
I chuckled and shrugged. "Nothing. This is ironic."  
"Griffin." Shannon whacked the side of Griffin's head with his jerky bag. Griffin's copper bangs were flipped aside as he lifted his face to realize where I stood.

"Oh, hey," he said, blinking. "Heh, wow..."  
"Yeah, cool seeing you," I agreed, nodding, and then glanced over my shoulder. Reed and Russell were standing back cautiously, studying my two random acquaintances as if they were wanted delinquents.

"What are they doing on the shopping carts?" Reed muttered.

"They're fine, Reed," I mumbled quickly back. Then, a little louder, I announced, "This is Shannon and Griffin, two guys I know from school."  
I didn't know if 'friend' was the appropriate word yet.

Shannon lifted an eyebrow in Reed's direction. "Nice meeting you."

Reed and Russell just nodded. I sighed, a tad relieved.

"Well, um, we got a schedule to meet, so, I guess I'll see you tomorrow."  
"Until then," Shannon agreed, and lifted another strip of jerky to toast my departure.

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**A/N**: Sephiroth is one smooth pimp... thanks for reading, pleaz pleaz review!


	4. Chapter 4: Soda Can

4: SODA CAN

**A/N**: sorry if these chapters are a little slow going: it gets soooooooooo much better as everything folds out, so pleaz be patient!!!! thank you!! pleaz review!

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In reality you wouldn't usually think you could set out and find a job in a day.

Yet, it happened.

I'd headed straight for something small and simple, something that wasn't flipping burgers, wasn't holding stop signs up on highway construction sights, and wasn't standing outside for hours and waving an advertisement at passing cars. In fact, this little job was well worth my while: a prescription delivery service.

And now you think, does such a thing exist? Well, in this district, I guess it does.

What's even more unusual is that they had routes ready for me right as I walked in.

"I hope you don't mind starting today," my new boss, James Wakkar, had told me with an apologetic twist in his features. Of course I'd taken him up in an instant, not just because of the fact that he was now my boss, but also because the day was looking pretty empty from then on. I told him to load on the medications.

I left the building with a backpack full of pills, creams, ointments, swabs, you name it, all with addresses taped on the front in spidery handwriting, all to be distributed before six o' clock that evening. I'd never thought I could enjoy something to do with delivery, but at least here the item was expected, so I wasn't supposed to sell anything, (give me a salesman and I'll give you a person with a thing for awkwardness) and hopefully I could befriend a few people on the way. It was always a new game of tag in my head.

Luckily, Reed and Russell had had a three-year-old motorcycle stashed off in their garage, just waiting for someone young and reckless enough to take it on the spin of it's life. Well, how convenient that someone like me happened to be moving in! Now we didn't have to fight over cars, I could keep my promise about not being dependent on the two, and I didn't have to worry about blasting their gas prices through the roof. (I wouldn't be able to resist: speed is too much fun sometimes.)

So here I was, on my "very own" black and blue motorcycle with one busted headlight and a patch on the back wheel, (it adds character! C'mon!), with a backpack of medical supplies strapped tight to my back, a highway up ahead, and plenty of wind to keep the bangs out of my eyes. It was the way to travel, the way to work.

My first five stops for that day alone were predictable enough: little old ladies or frantic single mothers who couldn't afford a drive to the pharmacist or a set of medication that would last them a few months. Their addresses were simple too: four of the five had been different apartment rooms all in one complex. The last had been an actual home, out in the south end of the city: a slightly older man with a gigantic dog from hell. Despite that, he seemed very grateful I'd stopped by.

So far, I'd just been selecting items randomly and blindly by a hand over my shoulder, so I hadn't known the last item would be the last until I'd bothered to look. Shrugging, I studied the medication. It was a tiny zip lock bag with three red-and-white tablets compressed tightly inside. On top, the address and name of it's customer was written in the same skinny handwriting as the rest: Angel Hewley was the name, and beside it, the same address as the first four stops of my route. Oh, great. Another apartment. Now I've learned my lesson: check all the addresses first and go from nearest to farthest, just to make sure you're not driving the length of the city when you don't need to be.

I kicked the gears and spun around, taking off at the peek of the speed limit back up north where the said complex was.

It took me about fifteen minutes, including traffic and all that, which wasn't bad at all compared to Colorado. My iPod was blasting against the roar of my own engine and all the cars that were zooming right beside me, so much so that my ears actually hurt, for the first time in my life, as I removed the phones.

And then I was at the same white apartment, just like Reed and Russell's, the same moderately confusing numbering system. Number 118... that was what I was looking for. I took off into the maze, trying not to make too much noise on now my _fifth_ treck up and down clattering metal staircases.

And then there it was, the usual white door with the violet and gold numbers. You think designers could be more creative, or at least unleash a legion of teenagers armed to the teeth with spray-paint cans to jazz the place up.

Well, I guess vulgarity wouldn't look good on the government... so never mind.

I rapped three times on the cold, plain door, setting my weight and feeling the excitement of the 'work is over' kind of thing. I bet I wasn't getting a taste of real shift hours, and anyone who was would beat the snot out of me, but where were they now, hm? Heh, heh, heh...

The door opened with the same click-and-squeak I'd been hearing all day.

And Zeke looked down at me in surprise from the entryway.

I don't know why my heart leapt so far: you'd think I'd be able to see a kid from school without having a spaz attack. But, like I've said a million times and will keep saying until I get an explanation, there was just... _something_ about it. I have no idea what it was, and I was probably never going to find out.

"Taite?" A thrill lit up his already blazing eyes which sparked my own deep in my stomach.

I was hardly aware of how big my smile was. "Hey, Zeke! Do you live here?"  
He shook his head. "No, I'm just here for school stuff. What's up?"  
"Oh, so this is where you've been all day," I said, trying to twist my voice into a chide, but who was I kidding? The disappointment was blatant enough in the first place.

He chuckled nervously. "Yeah. It's been like this for years, I guess."  
"Well..." I looked down at what I'd come here to do, surprised I'd even remembered, "I came over to bring something to... Angel Hewley."  
"Oh, okay..." Zeke stepped forward, further out the doorway, and I saw he was in socks, jeans, and a lounging T-shirt. "Are you the new delivery girl?" At this, he smiled mischeviously.  
"Yep, I guess so. Just got the job today."  
"And they already have work for you?"

"This was their frantic afternoon, or so I was told," I offered, chuckling.

"Yeah, pretty crazy people," he sighed, grinning, and then turned to open the door wider.

"Will you come in? You can meet Angel."  
"Sure thing, thanks." As I crossed the threshold, I saw a smaller, more tightly compacted living area, like kitchen-bedroom-bathroom-and-living-room-in-a-can. Cozy, simple. And teeming with a delectable aroma of pot roast.

"Mmmmmm," I sighed, taking in a huge whiff. "You must eat great."  
"All Angel," Zeke said, holding up his hands innocently. "I burn pop tarts, and that's about it."  
"Whatever, you just need practice. Is Angel your mom?"

A kind, amused smile spread his lips. "No, he's my tutor."  
"Oh!" I touched my fingers to my mouth, trying not to laugh. "I'm sorry, the name threw me off."  
"No problem," he said quickly, his voice trembling in a chortle. "We get that all the time. But he's fine with it."  
"It's a beautiful name for a grown man, now that I think of it," I murmured more to myself than to him, as soon as I'd gotten over the blush of embarrassment, that is.

"Well, I'll go get him." Zeke traveled briskly into the single, darker hallway, and I watched, curious. Respectably he stopped in front of a door, still in my sight range, and knocked quietly near the handle.

"Angel?"  
"Come in, Zeke."

The voice was low, firm, and even muffled behind sheet rock, I could already hear the power behind it. And yet, as if forbidden, it's gentle side slipped and was exposed as he spoke his pupil's name.

Zeke inched the door open just a crack, enough to peer inside and speak very quietly so I had to strain,

"The pills are here, sir."  
"Oh, good..." His voice rushed, and there was the shuffling of papers...

"And there's someone I'd like you to meet," Zeke added casually.

"I'll be right out, then."  
"Thanks."  
Zeke stepped back, bringing the door just close enough to the lock so it could bounce off and float there between open and shut, then made his way easily back to me, a smirk on his face.

"He's not usually this busy," he said with cautious amusement. "I stayed after a bit today just to help with computer stuff, else I wouldn't be here."  
"Where do you really live?"  
"Down near the high school, actually, just right behind the orchard."  
I remembered seeing an orchard span out from the back of the school grounds.

"You, Yuffie, and your parents?"  
"Mm, hm. Did you meet my sister?"  
"Not one-on-one," I said a little apologetically. "Just when I listened to you play in the auditorium."  
"Yeah..." he grinned. "I remember that. Will you be coming to anymore rehearsals?"

"With Aeryn as a chaperone, I can guarantee perfect attendance."  
We shared soft laughs.

"But it was incredible," I continued with a nod. "_You_ are incredible. I'll be there."  
He shook his head. "Nah. Just having no life, as usual."  
"If you think you have no life, you really need to come see what _I_ do all day."  
"And what's that?" He lifted an eyebrow.

"Writing." I accentuated with my own raised brow.  
"Oh, no, that's only one of the most productive things a human can do!" He feigned a gasp.

I shook my head, biting back a smile. "It depends on the writing, doesn't it?"  
"I guess that's fair. So what do you write?"

I shrugged. "Poetry, mostly. Really abstract, never rhymes, out of the ordinary. Lots of swearing, you know, emotional break outs..."

He chuckled, impressed. "Have you ever thought to put it to music?"  
I blinked. "What?"  
"Well, poetry's just lyrics, isn't it?"  
"No, _lyrics_ are just _poetry_," I corrected him, and he laughed.

"Yeah, I guess I'll trust the literate."  
"C'mon, you write songs like a pro, don't you?"

"Vaughan writes most of them," he replied mischievously. "And Yuffie'll help. Cole and I just jam like freaks when all the work's been done by someone else."  
I snorted. "Nah. I'm sure you work really hard on singing, Zeke."  
He shrugged. "If you call an addiction work, maybe I do. My shower head is ready to kill me."  
"Can't a scrap of metal get some peace and quiet around here?" I mimicked a distraught tone, grinning as I did.

"Exactly," he said, and we laughed. His laugh was so easy, so... him. Bright--- and fearless.

"And who's this, Zeke?"  
The deep voice of authority was back, now with a twinge of humor, ease. Zeke turned, his back to the hall, to allow me a look past his shoulder at the man making his way towards us.

And there was one thing I knew for sure: at a first glance, Angel was not angelic.

He stood at an average yet impressive height, which probably only seemed impressive because of his bulked shoulders, the broadness of his chest and the straight might in his back. Thick arms were bent neatly at the elbows to guide hands together: his large, strong fingers massaged eachother just below his breast. A wide neck supported the square jaw that was held modestly shut, but his lips were perked in a taste of a smirk that seemed to stand out so well from the overall frown of his facial structure. His brow was drawn down in a permanent glare, yet the eyes softened and hardened as they pleased. Now, alongside the smirk, they were as gentle and as wise as perhaps I'd ever see them. A cunning sense for humor lurked somewhere behind all the discipline that seemed to drip off his elbows.

He had a full head of hair, just a slightly more stylish recede at top of his brow. His hair was deep black, just like Zeke's, only flecked with gray near the roots. It was long and wavy, the longest half-curls tucking under his earlobes and at the nape of his neck. The entirety of it was slicked back along his skull to leave his face open and _unheckled_. A very, very faint layer of whiskers crowned his chin, as well as trailing from his sideburns.

He wore a tight navy blue T-shirt and beige working gloves; baggy kaki pants stained with car grease, pant legs rolled to an exact length for sturdy black hiking boots not recently polished... It was hardly the apparel I expected on a high school-college tutor, but I wasn't about to say it wasn't preferable next to a suit and tie.

"Let me guess," Angel said slowly as he approached, looking directly at me now, "this isn't what you expected when you heard the word 'tutor'."  
I wasn't surprised at the perfect reading of my mind: he'd had that look in his eye ever since emerging from his office.

Swiftly, he removed the glove from his right hand and extended it towards me. I took it without hesitation and shook generously.

"Actually, if I had a choice, I'd pick someone who looked about like you," I said, and he chuckled low in his throat.

"You'll have to excuse my appearance, I'm usually more appropriately attired. Today was just a little unexpected course in grudge work, wasn't it, Zeke?"  
Zeke shrugged. "I can handle grudge work."  
"_You_ got to shower," Angel grumbled with a frown, and I had to giggle.

"Well," Zeke sighed, glancing over to smile at me, "Angel, this is Taite, one of Aeryn's old friends from... Colorado?"  
I nodded.

"Aeryn's friend," Angel repeated, nodding. "You like Aeryn?"

"Yes, sir, we've known eachother for a long time."  
He smirked wider. "I have similar friends," he said cryptically, then sighed. "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Taite."

"You too, sir."

"You, um..." Angel trailed off as he drifted towards the kitchen, "haven't heard Zeke's band play yet, have you?"  
"Actually, I have," I said. "It was one of the first things I did. They're phenomenal."  
"Are they?" Angel chuckled. "I need a reminder every now and then."

Zeke smirked at me, proud. "We practice here a lot. Drives him nuts."  
"Zeke, did you say the pills had come?" Angel asked from the kitchen. I was reminded of the tantalizing smell of their dinner and felt my stomach ache in hunger.

"Oh, yeah---" Zeke chuckled sheepishly. "Taite brought them over."  
"She did?" Angel stuck his head around the wall. "She's the new delivery girl, huh?"

"Yep." I was starting to like the title: I bet it would annoy most people, but I didn't mind. Taking the pills from my sweater pocket, I stepped forward to meet Zeke's upturned palm. In one swift movement, he turned and chucked the bag over his shoulder, which was snagged suddenly out of the air by Angel's fingers.

"Thanks, Taite," he said.

"Don't mention it."

"You remind me a little of the last girl that used to come here... Cassidy," Zeke murmured, studying me closely.

"You two still keeping touch?" Angel asked, throwing a sidelong glance at Zeke.

Zeke dropped back his head into an annoyed glare. "Angel..."  
"What?" Angel held up his hands innocently and began to saunter backwards again towards the hall. "I'll be in my office if you feel like helping around some more."  
Zeke rolled his eyes. "Sure, Angel."  
Angel lifted an eyebrow as he turned. "You're lucky we're not in session, or you would have just flunked that baby of yours in a second."  
As Angel turned his back, Zeke just smirked in my direction.

"Eh, scholarships are commercial rackets anyway."  
"Really valuable commercial rackets," I corrected, and he chuckled.

"The lady speaks wisely," Angel mumbled somewhere near the hallway.

His steps slowly faded until they were silenced by the click of his door. In one moment it had gone from friendly company to Zeke and Taite. Hm... wonder how this'll pull through.

"Hey, you want a soda?" Zeke asked casually. I met his eyes, suddenly feeling the parch in my throat.

"Sure, I'd love one."  
"Preferences? We've got Sprite, orange, grape, root beer..."

"Root beer, please."

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and moved around the wall and out of sight into the kitchen. I heard the hum of the fridge door as it opened, which was slowly added to by another hum... Zeke's hum. He was humming an upbeat, cheerful tune, probably one of his obnoxiously good songs. Soon his hums turned to low murmurs, and not before long, I could decipher lyrics. I knew his voice wouldn't break into full-out singing when he knew I was there, yet I couldn't help feeling that strong desire to hear it. Once I got a taste, I had to have the whole sundae.

His absence stretched a moment longer, and then he turned the corner, two soda cans sticking out of his pockets and his fingers working to cap a black sharpie.

Chucking the sharpie onto the nearby table, he withdrew a can and handed it too me.

"Thanks."  
"No problem."  
There was a snap and some fizzle as he opened his can, and then an echo as I cracked my own. While bringing the can up to my face, something bold caught my eye. The can was silver, so anything darker would stand out.

Lifting it gently from my eyes, I saw it: it was a phone number, written in quick black marker, right along the bottom below the nutrition facts.

I glanced up past the can to Zeke, who was intently scratching at something on his shirt.

"Zeke?"  
"Yes?" He didn't look up.

I smirked.

"Never mind."

And took a swig.

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**A/N**: thanks for reading, reviews are brownies!


	5. Chapter 5: Vaughan

5: VAUGHAN

**A/N**: Say hello to Vincent... and Hojo. thanks for reading! this chapter is for my Vincent x Tifa side

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Saturday morning was gray and cloudy. I didn't mind, though, I was used to stormy weather after spending a lifetime in Colorado. And I had to admit, I'd choose a thunderstorm over sunny days in a second, so my day was actually brighter as I opened the window in Reed and Russell's kitchen to welcome the crispy air inside.

A quick stop at the pharmacist was all it took to get the next routes for that day. The delivery would be cold, ripping through the coming storm on a motorcycle... well, I'd be sure to bundle up.

This time I was smart and actually went in order of address. Overall, there were only seven deliveries. The first three were apartments, like lots of them were, but the last four were to be regular houses down south.

One, two, three... check, check, check... Number four. The first actual home. I zipped up the backpack and tore off in the opposite direction down the highway.

Fifteen minutes later, I spun the key and pulled up into a stop on a driveway with two shiny cars: one dark blue, the other blood red. The place looked like it had been built in the fifties. Plain white walls, a stereotypical brown roof with the classic shingles... Tiny porch, a simple place mat, wiry and brown, shutters the chocolate color of the roof giving the windows an extra warm darkness.

I crossed the lawn and rapped gently on the door: assuming it was an older home, it would probably have older people living there, right?

As I waited, I studied the medication. It intrigued me: simple silver marbles, the kind you shift around in your fingers when stress has reached it's limit. I'd almost asked my boss if there'd been some mistake. Marbles weren't necessarily anything medical, unless I was suddenly working for a social counseling delivery service. Were they actually spherical pills? No, anyone with a regular esophagus would choke like crazy on these things...

There was a click and the door was gently nudged open. I straightened, watching closely as half a face appeared. The room inside was dark, at least what I could see of it. The face was taller than I, a patch of flesh, a glimpse at lips, an eye half open in suspicion, a dip of black between his eyes.

"Yes?" the half-face asked in a low, soft tone, almost inaudible.

I recognized that voice, and that eye.

"Vaughan?" I smiled, my usual reaction to people I knew.

"Taite?"  
The door squeaked as he moved it a few more inches from his face. Light bathed his other cheek and I saw his full expression: not the thrill I'd gotten from Zeke, but a calmed reassurance, almost relief. Still, that flicker of intensity darkened his gaze; I couldn't help but wonder.

"You live here?" I asked conversationally.

He blinked slowly, studying me with those deep, rich brown eyes.

"Yeah."

The dip of black on the bridge of his noise, I realized, was actually his bangs. Similar points of black interrupted his cheeks, the sides of his eyes. I saw the same red-and-black striped sweater catch the light as he moved slightly towards me: his hood was up again, just at the crown of his head.

"Cool." I guess it was all I could say. I glanced down at the marbles in the small zip lock bag and read the name as I had to Zeke and to all the others.

"Um... I have something for Mr. Jolan."  
Vaughan blinked. "Hollace?"

Right on cue, there was a bang from inside the house, as if someone had dropped a computer on the carpet.

And then---

"U.F.O.! U.F.O.!"

Shrill cries from an elderly, raspy throat erupted in panic. My heart leapt and I almost lunged forward into the house, but when I saw the look on Vaughan's face, I stopped dead in my tracks.

His head snapped back in the direction of the main room, a half-shock on his face, then turned back around looking dismal and exasperated.

He sighed, long and heavily, meeting my eyes again.

"Sorry, hold on a second--- come in if you want."

And he was gone into the darkness, like a wraith.

"U.F.O.! ALIENS! U.F.O.!" the voice continued.

"Hollace?" Vaughan called boredly, his voice now distanced.  
"ALIENS!"

I took a deep breath and quickly swung the door open: whatever was the trouble, I could be needed, even if Vaughan didn't want to admit it--- the old man's chants continued from somewhere up ahead of me, but the second I entered the house I had to blink and get my bearings.

Not a light was on, and next to that, all the windows were sealed, shutters down, not letting in a peep of the morning light. The ceiling was low, the walls wide, making a rectangular box of darkness. Well, that wasn't entirely true: to my immediate left, inside the kitchen, a single window was open, letting a gray glow leak onto the tile and eventually spread to adjust my vision, but overall, it was unnaturally dark for a regular house. Shapes of the sofa quickly sharpened as my vision did, and not before long, I could even make out patterns stitched into the cushions. After a few minutes, it didn't seem _quite_ so dark as it had at first, but I knew it was probably thanks to the single light in the kitchen.

Looking forward, I spotted another lone source of light, the same dim silver sliced in pieces by drawn blinds. The shattered light lit a spot near the end of the hallway, a spot I eventually made out to be another sitting room. A dark figure moved into the light and out, and I didn't need the long legs and striped sweater to know who it was...

"Hollace? Where are you?"  
Vaughan sounded, if not annoyed, exhausted, as if in an extremely dull routine. I was starting to grasp, a little, what was going on, but it wasn't going to come to me soon...

"ALIENS! THERE, IN THE BOX! THE BOX! IT'S THE U.F.O.! I TOLD YOU! I TOLD YOU!"  
"Okay, Hollace, that's great. Calm down."  
"The U.F.O. was hooked up to the wall! It was letting in aliens through the black stringy thing!"

All right... I was starting to have theories...

"The cord? Hollace, this is a computer, not a U.F.O."  
"Lucy! Lucy, tell him it was a U.F.O.! You listen to Lucy now, she's not afraid of those stupid aliens!"

"Okay, sure, if she ever comes back from the dead, I'll ask her. C'mon, let's go back to the kitchen."  
"Steamroller the aliens! Steamroller 'em!"

"Later, dude, right now your marbles are here."

Okay, theories confirmed.  
The old man continued gibbering, his grumbles growing louder until Vaughan's figure again crossed into the light at the end of the hall, this time guiding a smaller, more hunched figure I already knew was the old man.

"Is this Hollace?" I asked politely, in the tone one would use to humor a little kid on his fifth birthday.

"Yeah," Vaughan droned. "Uncle Hollace."  
"He's your uncle?" Well, it made sense. Why else would they be living in the same house? (So "willingly", I might add...)

"He's a little..." Vaughan wet his lips, and then finally just lifted his finger to his head and twirled it in a circle. I nodded solemnly, trying not to giggle at the trademark illustration. The condition was very tragic, especially when it was someone close to you who was the victim.

"I'm sorry," I said cautiously.

Vaughan shrugged. "He's kinda always been like this, maybe not officially, but... paranoid, stubborn, bratty... yeah, that's been Uncle Hollace for as long as I can remember, anyway."

I smiled nervously. "So he lives here with you?"  
"More like... I live here with him. My girlfriend and I." He grimaced down as Hollace tugged madly on his shirt. They'd emerged now into the living room. Hollace was about my height, a little shorter, a skinny little guy with a crown of fluffy gray-white hair. The peek of his head was bald, sliding down into a scrunched brow of pale, layered skin. The overall scowl shaping his face was actually a little endearing on someone his age: I studied his hands, knobs of bone and flesh yanking impatiently on Vaughan's striped sweater.

"What?" Vaughan finally snapped.

"Lucy sent letters," Hollace insisted. "She stays up past midnight, all her candles have burned out."  
"Sure," Vaughan muttered vaguely, "we'll get some more. Uh---"

He glanced at me somewhat apologetically. "Here, you can give me the marbles."

I fumbled for the marbles and then plopped the bag down on his open palm. He seemed to hesitate as he stuffed them in his sweater pocket, then glanced up to meet my eyes.

"Peyton--- er, my girlfriend--- should be home any minute... you wanna wait and meet her?"

"I'd love to," I said eagerly. "Can I get to know Hollace while we wait?"  
He looked like I'd suggested ordering a snail pizza. "Sure, you can try, but..."  
"Oh, don't worry, I'll be okay." I stepped forward with a bright smile and extended a hand in the little man's direction. Hollace glanced up at me warily, lifting an eyebrow, his bottom lip trembling along with his entire jaw.

"Hello, Hollace," I said, a slightly perky-yet-mellow tone... gosh darnit, I'm always as salesman these days... "my name is Taite."  
He scrutinized me as if confused, and then looked at my hand.

"Here," I said, stepping forward and gently prying his fingers loose from Vaughan's sweater, "like this."

Carefully I folded my grip over his and shook at about half a mile an hour, just smiling and waiting for his reaction.

He blinked, studying our hands still as if bewildered, but slowly gaining substance, until he looked back up into my face and spoke loudly with authority.

"_Lucy_," he grunted chidingly, "Now you listen to me. I'm not wringing the cat, and that's final. Lucous never had to wring _his_ cat."  
I bit my lip against a giggle, nodding seriously and hardening my eyes for effect.

"I couldn't agree more, Hollace," I said firmly. "I won't ask you again."

"Okay, good," Vaughan grumbled in Hollace's direction, then caught my eye. "Sorry," he muttered, sighing.

"No, no, not at all," I assured him, straightening. "At least he's straightforward."  
"Heh..." Vaughan slipped his fingers under his hood to run them like a comb through his bangs. "I guess so---"  
But he turned his head to the side, falling silent. I listened, over Hollace's distant muttering, and realized the low hum that had started somewhere behind the kitchen was the garage door.

"Lucinda!" Hollace suddenly shrieked, making me jump. "Lucinda, you shut that cow up now!"  
"No, Hollace," Vaughan said quickly, taking the old man's shoulder as he attempted to step forward, "that's Peyton. She's home."  
"Lucinda?" Hollace demanded. "Lucinda's going to be home at eight thirty sharp, just like always."  
"Yeah, Lucinda, whatever..." Vaughan sighed yet again, running his hand down over his eyes and throwing me a cautious glance.

"I might sound like a jerk, but after so many months of listening to it..."  
"I understand," I said quickly. It would be much like raising an outgoing toddler--- I couldn't blame him for being just a little sour.

A creak and a slam told me someone had entered the house from an unseen door--- I kept looking off past the kitchen, as Vaughan did.

"Peyton?" he called, grimacing down at Hollace as the old man began tugging on the hem of his sleeve.

"What's up, babe," a girl's husky alto voice called from the unseen foyer, distracted and casual in routine.

"You're late," Vaughan threw back dismally, prying Hollace's fingers from his sleeve.

"You know the traffic," Peyton droned, and then she finally emerged into the solitary light of the kitchen window.

And the image I got was hardly what I expected.

She was as tall as I, a little shorter, with hair so light a flax it might have been a white-gray. But you couldn't really call the color a characteristic when you saw it's style: it was cut incredibly short, with longer strands down the middle spiked like pikes on a mace. Her one-inch mohawk died out at the back of her skull, where the hair was no longer than her earlobes. Her black leather pants and red T-shirt reminded me strongly of Vaughan's outfit, though he seemed a little less excessive on all the jewelry. Her wrists were strangled in bracelet after bracelet, each exhibiting some characteristic of the human skeleton, while black metal skulls the size of dimes dangled from her ears. And not to forget the red stud in her left nostril, nor her ruby pinky rings and the anklet of metal thorns just tight enough for her slender leg. Her high heel sandals left black-and-red painted toenails for the viewing, three more toe rings scattered among the ten, and an overall posture of a girl you wouldn't want to mess with if you didn't have to.

Our eyes met and she blinked in surprise: her firm, angular face reminded me something of a video game character.

"Hey," I said before Vaughan could step in. "I'm Taite, friend of Vaughan's."  
"Oh, well nice to meet you." She smiled and drifted to Vaughan's side.

"She came with Hollace's marbles," Vaughan said, taking her waist in his hands and pausing to kiss her briskly.

"Mm'yeah?" Peyton asked as their lips bounced apart. "Well, I guess _he _will have made a new friend today. I'm Peyton, Vaughan's girl," she added to me with the same sardonic smile.

"Nice to meet you," I replied hastily. "Love your hair."  
"Thanks." She grinned into the pocket of Vaughan's shoulder.

"In London, Lucy always had an extra suitcase," Hollace grumbled. "Full of all her little things, it was, all her marbles."  
"Sure, Holl," Peyton said just as casually as Vaughan did, though without the little hint of irritation. "You have them?" she muttered softly to the owner of the arm around her shoulders.

"Oh--- yeah..." Vaughan glanced down at his back pocket and made a move to reach inside but Peyton beat him there, reaching around his waist. When she withdrew the small bag, I noticed Hollace's eyes widen.

"Where did Lucinda get the marbles?" he demanded, reaching up to snag them from her grip.

"Lucinda got them from the nice lady Taite," Peyton said matter-of-factly, hooking her thumb back onto Vaughan's back pocket and leaving it there. "Do you want to thank her?"  
"Thank you," Hollace said vaguely, studying the bag as if contemplating how to get it open.

"No problem," I said cheerfully.

"So are you working for the prescription delivery people now?" Peyton asked.

"Yeah. Just got the job yesterday."  
"Well, good luck on gas prices."  
I chuckled. "Thanks. I got a motorcycle, so it should go more smoothly."  
"Really?" She grinned. "Sweet. You should give Vaughan a lift, he'd die for a bike."

Vaughan just grimaced.

"Oh, he can come see it," I offered quickly. "You wanna?"  
Vaughan looked caught between two fishing lines. "Uh---"  
"Go on," Peyton said briskly, giving him a loving spank as she released his back pocket. "I'll get Hollace situated with dinner."

"Kay..." he glanced at me as if apologetic, but I just gave him another smile and turned to the door.

I lead him out into the gray air, where the slight drop in temperature chilled the surface of my skin. I quickly untied my sweater and draped my arms through it, setting it backwards over my chest.

"It's just down on the curb," I said, though I knew he could see it, and as he nodded we traveled silently to the end of the driveway. There it waited, parked sloppily and quickly at some strange angle. I guess "on the curb" was sugar coating it...

"This is it, huh?" Vaughan murmured, hood still up and his hands in his sweater pockets. He examined it as he approached, while I sauntered into the street to lean on the other side.

"It's not officially mine," I told him, and he looked up to watch me. "It belongs to Reed, one of the guys I'm living with."

"Is this like... a foreign exchange, except you're not foreign?"

"Yeah. Basically I'm staying with them for the rest of high school, and then on through college. I actually have a scholarship for the Columbus University."  
He whistled a long tone. "Good for you. I can barely get past Trig."  
"Ah, you don't want to be like me." I shook my head with a wrinkled nose. "I'd actually like to try my shot at taking care of the mentally disabled, now seeing you do it."

"Yeah, well, 'take care' is an overstatement," he said sullenly, and then chuckled, meeting my eye innocently. "Nah. He's all right. It's just been a long three years, that's all."  
"He's been here for three years?"  
"Yeah. Before then he'd been staying with my parents. Then they sent him here when a divorce landed my dad in Washington."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry."  
He shook his head. "No big deal. He's a jerk--- glad to see him gone. Still, Hollace is sort of, in my opinion, a bigger challenge than a high school Senior would usually take on. I'm surprised the government hasn't gotten involved."

"You and Peyton seem to be doing fine."  
He shrugged. "We got the hang of it."

"Was she with you for all the three years?"  
"No, just for the last eighteen months. Before then I had my mom helping me."  
"Where did your parents live? Or, where does your mom live now?"

"Just down a few blocks. This house actually used to be Hollace's, when he was more mentally awake. Now he's completely off the rocker, but there was a time when he could comprehend a budget and crap. He started going nuts around the time his wife died."  
My brow arched sympathetically. "That's so sad. Who was she?"

"Notice how he calls everyone Lu-something?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
"Yes..."

"His wife's name was Lucy. Guys are Lucous, girls are Lucy, Lucinda, etcetera... He's really whacked."

"That's sweet. I mean--- no, it's tragic, it's just... _bitter_sweet, I guess, that he seems fixed on her."  
Vaughan sighed. "Yeah... Once we had a visitor who's name was actually Lucy, and she thought the old man was psychotic. So... it has it's weird moments and it's sad moments, but overall it's weird."  
"He is..." I wet my lips, searching for the right words, "...stubborn because he's sad. Yes?"  
"That's what Peyton says too," Vaughan replied, smiling slightly. "Judas, I don't know where I'd be without her... My mom couldn't take Hollace anymore, he just reminded her about my dad for some reason, so she finally made me get steady with someone so the two of us could take him in. 'Not too shallow, not too deep, just there when you need a lending hand'. That's what she told me. Of course, that's not the only thing I value Peyton for."

"Of course."

"She's just... she seems to really get Hollace's situation. Gets _Hollace_. She loves him now, I think. I might not be able to get rid of her. Not like I would--- I'm more serious with her than I think I'll ever be with anyone."  
"You two are perfect. And well, you can't blame her, Hollace is a little endearing, ironically."  
He chuckled. "Hm... I guess you speak for yourself."  
I giggled, then sighed. "No... I know you care about him."

"I do. You just have to dig for a while till you find it."  
I smiled, and we shared gazes for a moment, then he looked back down at the motorcycle where our silence continued. Finally I sighed, slapping my hands at my sides in satisfaction.

"Well, I'd be happy to let you take this thing for a spin--- I've got some more time to spare."  
"Nah," he shook his head. "I won't keep you. Thanks, though."  
"You sure? I really don't mind."  
"Maybe next week?" he shot me a smirk and a raised eyebrow. I grinned in response.

"All right. Next week."

"Cool."  
Another brief second of silence, and then,

"Well, say 'bye' to Peyton for me."  
"Sure."  
And suddenly, I was hit with inspiration. The notion made me smile, bigger than I'd anticipated, at least according to his reaction.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Oh, Vaughan, I have something I want to give you."

He blinked, slightly surprised. "All right..."  
Turning to face the road, I dug in my purse for... the soda can. It was still in perfect condition, empty as a canyon, with Zeke's number still in clearest print across the bottom. And... my own number above it.

I'd been bored, I guess. Or maybe I'd been inspired, like at that moment. Either way, there it was: my number had made it's way to the can, stacked on Zeke's like a response call.

Putting on my smile, I turned back to Vaughan and held out the can.

"Here you go," I said, making sure to expose the side with the numbers. "Just a little reminder... You always have friends."  
He looked confused at first, but then as he carefully took it and looked over the numbers, the corner of his mouth turned up in a snicker.

"That's Zeke's number..."  
"Yep."  
"And... Cole's?"  
"Mine."  
"Oh." He looked up at me, blinking again. "Yours."

I smiled again, warmly. "You can share it with Peyton. I'll see you later, Vaughan."  
He stepped back from the bike, still holding the can like he didn't know what to do with it.

"Yeah. Um... thanks."  
"No problem." I revved the engine, tickling the clutch and pulling back from the curb.

"Bye!" I called over the roar. He just nodded.

And in a metallic roar and a blast of wind, he, the house, was gone.

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**A/N**: hope you liked it!! sorry for the delay


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